I miss you in a way that I still don’t understand
Still looking for you, searching around corners
Were you there when the moth ate lunch with me?
Or when the hawk swooped by, sat silent but for his eyes?
Were you there in a clandestine hug?
Or when a memory of nothing made me laugh?
I’ve sought you in strange places-
In the touch of smooth skin I remember you hands, in the smallest sculptures I see your work.
Do you remember the clearing that was ours?
We planted seeds together, but you knew they were really for me
To this day I’m not sure what it is I offered you,
A sister’s devotion?
The bright eyes of admiration?
A pure love
A signer on the dotted lines of dreams, my signature remains in ink and the blood that we share.
I miss the songs we sang together, that only we knew
Did you write them? Or did I? Or did Elvis?
I miss our language, I’ve lost my language, you knew what I meant and said it better –
Your ear heard harmonies in all things.
Big chunks, we ate life in big chunks
While others nibbled we expanded, and spoke in reverent whispers of our father-
You expanded out into galaxies, so far I couldn’t follow, so far from comfort, you were strong.
On a walk with you, a railroad track was a tunnel toward infinity, a summer afternoon in bloom, an afternoon of laughter that started in the toes, up through the belly and into the lungs, breath, heart.
A cup of coffee was a morning affair, a reservation for some time with Life, with the bird’s songs, with the breeze, and with the joy of ideas.
Where is that now?
You carried the lantern for so long. It got so heavy. I wanted to carry it for you, but I had the girls, our girls. I’m still here, trying to carry it. I wish I could tell you.
The last words you wrote in an open book on your table, you took the old pirate’s advice and decided not to go out and look for the moon music that you wanted.
I promise, I’ll look for it for you, every morning, all the time. I won’t rest ’til I find it.
–Mary F V Barford
The Love Scholar 